


Sunrise

by SherlockWolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Based on a photoset, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Priest Castiel, flydestiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-07 20:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13442784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: Based on a photoset by flydestiel on tumblr.~Dean and Castiel know each other. Sort of. See, this thing happens when you're soulmates. Across dimensions, time, and space, you will find one another. No matter the life you lead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Post: http://flydestiel.tumblr.com/post/169214542068/through-all-of-my-lives-id-never-thought-id  
> Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cux2qJjApGA
> 
> Thanks for reading!

 

    Dean Winchester’s best friend, the neighbor kid, is a weird dude. His name is Castiel Novak, which was a religious name given to him by his now-absent father. Dean calls him “Cas” because it’s easier on his tongue.

    Cas has black hair, blue eyes, and compared to Dean is skin-and-bones thin. His family doesn’t have much money, since his mother, Amara, has to raise four boys and a girl alone. Dean doesn’t mind, though. It gives him an excuse to pamper Cas with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when they hang out at Dean’s house.

    Dean’s parents have a good home. They share it with one of his dad’s friends, Bobby, who Dean and his little brother Sam consider an uncle. Uncle Bobby is a gruff man, a little older than John and Mary, and likes cars as much as Dean. The backyard, a full acre, is full of scrap metal and used cars from ages past.

    Dean loves that backyard. Uncle Bobby teaches him how to fix up some of the cars at least once a week. His family has barbeques outside the back porch on Sundays, and the Novaks often join them. Dean and Cas, being the same age and best friends, play hide and seek with Sam and Cas’ little sister, Anna. The other Novak kids are older and don’t play hide and seek.

    Cas comes over every day after school, too. He perches on Dean’s chair at the table, doing homework and cracking jokes while Dean fixed up sandwiches and—if they’re lucky—leftover pie. They eat while they finish their homework, then go play more hide and seek in the backyard until Mary calls them in for dinner.

    When they’re at school, it’s just Dean and Cas. The other boys try to make fun of Cas for being thin and poor. Dean’s been sent to the principal’s office at least once a month for starting a fight to defend his best friend. The adults chastise him for it, but Dean notices how the teachers give him and Cas extra stickers when he gets back to class.

    At school, they play on the monkey bars, hang out by the bushes around the school building, or try to sneak down to the creek at the bottom of the slope behind the school. They manage to do that twice without getting caught.

     Dean’s life goes like this for five wonderful years.

    Then the Novaks move to Washington, and he never sees Cas again.


	2. Chapter 2

    Dean’s roommate is hot. With a capital H. Black hair always disheveled in what Dean’s dubbed “sex hair”. Blue eyes bluer than the damn Caribbean sea. Stubble that looks like it would feel amazing on Dean’s body where the sun doesn’t shine.

    The fact that Cas is a nerd and a cinephile just makes it all so much better. Dean finally has someone he can indulge with. Someone he can finally argue with over whether Star Wars or Star Trek is better. Someone who’s willing to be subjected to the westerns Dean loves with guilty passion.

    Cas even got Dean back into reading, giving him an impossibly large stack of books to go through. At first, Dean was just gonna move a bookmark through one to make it seem like he read it. But, when Cas started making references that Dean didn’t understand but were from the first book on the pile, he decided to catch up. Soon, he and Cas were making extremely outdated references that only Cas’ English professors and fellow majors understood.

    It’s no surprise the two become inseparable within months of living together.

    It’s also no surprise that Dean falls head-over-heels in love with the guy.

    In a perfect universe he would’ve told Cas, they’d have gotten together, and lived happily ever after—Disney style.

    In this universe, Dean keeps his mouth shut. John expects him to be straight, insofar as to beat it into Dean on more than one occasion back in high school.

    That doesn’t stop his heart from nearly bursting when Cas smiles that big, toothy grin at him whenever Dean cracks a joke. That doesn’t stop him from lingering whenever he gets the chance to touch Cas. That doesn’t stop him for longing for Cas long after they’ve graduated college and gone their separate ways to live their separate lives.


	3. Chapter 3

    Dean’s never been on live TV before and he is _so nervous_. Especially because this is “Nights with Novak”, a very famous late night talk show.

    He reminds himself, eyes closed against the soft lights in the dressing room, why he’s here. The TV show he’s currently on became mainstream, and since he’s the lead, everybody wants to know who he is. After two years of interviews, he’s finally been booked a TV interview. The show is pretty progressive, so Mr. Novak has prepared some questions for him about civil rights and such. Dean was excited when he sent in his answers two weeks ago. Now he’s terrified.

    A sharp rap on the door startles Dean from his refocusing. He turns in the small space, opens the door, and finds one of the CBS interns there. Her name badge reads “Charlie”. Standing next to her is Castiel Novak, the host of “Nights with Novak”. Dean’s surprised that the man is a little shorter than him but hen again, TV appearances are misleading.

    “Dean Winchester, meet Castiel Novak.” Charlie says, then with an exaggerated bow she disappears from the doorframe, down the hall. Castiel holds out a hand to Dean, who shakes it in a bit of a daze. Not a star-struck one, but a déjà vu one. Like he’s shook this hand before.

    “Hi.” Dean mumbles, not sure what else to do or say.

    “Hello.” Castiel chuckles, voice deep and rough around the edges, “I like to meet my guests officially before the show. Mind if I come in? We could practice the set if you want, or just chat. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

    “I don’t mind practicing.” Dean steps aside and Castiel slips into the room.

    It’s crowded with two people, but Castiel leans against the side of the vanity with an air of ease. His attitude helps relax Dean’s nerves. He leans against the wall next to the open door and waits for Castiel to start.

    “So, I’ll introduce you to the audience, you walk on stage. Make sure to wave and smile at them before turning your attention to me. You’re here for their entertainment, not mine.” Castiel grins and winks.

    Dean can’t help but smile with him. He wonders if Castiel is flirting with him, and Dean’s tempted to flirt back to find out. But, for the sake of professionalism, he doesn’t.

    They flow through the scripted conversation easily, and after the second time Dean hardly has to think about what he has to say. Castiel gives him a thumbs up and says they’ll be good to go. Then, he asks Dean a few questions about himself that won’t be covered in the show. When he asks if Dean’s got any kids, Dean just laughs.

    “I guess my car would count, with how much time and effort I put into it. My brother, Sam, says I’m like a mama bear with it.”

    Castiel looks intrigued. “What kind of car is it?”

    “’67 Impala.”

    “Oh, wonderful.” The man exclaims, then says, “I love antique stuff in general. Do you have pictures?”

    Dean has a plethora of pictures of his baby, so he pulls out his phone and shows the most recent ones to Castiel. He takes time looking at the detail of the car in each one, then checks his watch after the last one.

    “I hate to cut this short, but we’re starting the show in ten minutes. Charlie will come get you five minutes before your segment, which is at 10:15. In case she doesn’t, go find someone to direct you to the stage before then. And it was nice to meet you, Dean.” Castiel makes for the door, turns, and shakes Dean’s hand once again. The man looks at Dean strangely for a second. Dean almost feels sparks. Then Castiel is gone.

    “Weird.” He murmurs to himself, then flops down in the vanity chair and waits for Charlie.

~

    Another tap on the door rouses Dean from internet surfing. He’s been scrolling through tweets about tonight’s show of “Nights with Novak”. So far his name has only been brought up by a handful of people who are excited to see him.

    When he opens the door, Charlie is standing there with a clipboard in hand.

    “We’ve got five minutes until your segment. Next commercial break is in two and Mr. Novak will want to say a quick hello before.” Charlie informs him, then takes hold of Dean’s arm and drags him to the stage.

    They can’t see anything from where they stand in the left wing because the curtains between the stage and the wing are solid black, but they can hear Castiel talking about recent political news while the audience laughs and cheers. Dean does some breathing exercises while he, Charlie, and the tech people with flashlights and copies of the script wait for break.

    As soon as Castiel uses the phrase for the commercials, he excuses himself from the audience with a promise of, “I’ll be back!”

    Then the curtain swings aside and Castiel makes his way to Dean and Charlie.

    “Jeeze, it’s dark back here.” He grumbles as he places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder and squints at Dean.

    “Ready?”

    “As I’ll ever be.” Dean jokes.

    Castiel smiles at him and claps a hand on Dean’s left shoulder. It feels like that hand belongs there.

    “You’ll be great.” Castiel reassures him with a squeeze.

    The crew calls for set, so Castiel disappears back on stage. Charlie hustles Dean to the edge of the curtain and reminds him to look and wave to the audience _before_ heading for his designated chair.

    Then the show gears up again, and Castiel calls for Dean. He walks on stage, redirecting his nervous energy into a big smile and wave as he greets the audience. Then he turns to his chair, locks eyes with Castiel, and the rest is a blur. He and Castiel talk through their script without a flaw or awkward pause, and a few times Castiel makes impromptu jokes that Dean plays along with. It’s fun, it’s easy, and after five minutes, it’s over. They go back to commercial break, Castiel lets the audience bid Dean farewell, then Charlie rushes him offstage.

    “That was great! For a first-timer, you were awesome.” She congratulates him.

   “Thanks. And thanks again for having me.”

    “No problem, dude. That show you’re on is awesome, too. It’s good to have open-minded creativity, especially in Trump’s America.” Charlie says somewhat sardonically as she opens the door to Dean’s dressing room again.

    “Are you staying for the after party? We always have them on Fridays, and guests are invited.” Charlie asks while Dean loosens his tie.

    He’d completely forgotten about the party. It had been included on a small piece of paper in the envelope he’d gotten from his agent, along with the actual invitation to the show.

    “Uh, yeah. I have nothing else to do.” Dean shrugs, and Charlie raises an eyebrow at him.

    “You forgot.” She accuses, and Dean ducks his head.

    “Yeah.”

    “No worries. It’s not formal or anything. Usually we all just wear whatever we were for the show, and since Cas and his guest are the only ones dressed up, you’ll only feel a little out of place.” Charlie teases, then tells him to gather all his stuff so she can take him to the “party room.”

    Dean had only brought his phone and wallet, so that part was easy.

    The “party room” is a large, empty office with a few folding tables shoved up against the walls. On them are various snacks, drinks, and silverware. Dean spots a few pies and knows as soon as he’s allowed to he’ll snag a piece.

    There’s a few crew members and other CBS employees already in the room, and they all greet Dean as Charlie heads back for the stage. They’re pleasant people, and almost immediately invite Dean to get some snacks. A woman named Lisa follows him to the table. They talk about her son, Ben, for a while before the room suddenly fills up with the rest of the crew and Castiel.

    The mingling begins instantly. For a moment Dean’s overwhelmed by the sound of too many voices, but then someone grips his elbow and he looks around to find Castiel smiling up at him. His stomach does a weird little flip when he met Castiel’s eyes. Dean almost wishes the organ is real so he could fight it for doing that.

    “You were wonderful.” Castiel hollers at him, and Dean laughs.

    “Thanks!” He calls back.

    It’s ridiculous that they’re two feet apart and having to yell. Castiel seems to think the same thing, because he pops up on his tip-toes and speaks into Dean’s ear instead.

     “This isn’t a standard thing I ask my guests, but do you wanna get out of here?”

     Dean nods, but as Castiel leads him from the room, he wonders what the man means by “not standard”.

    “Where exactly are we going?” Dean asks as Castiel leads him down a bunch of hallways.

    Dean’s trying to balance the pie in his free hand while keeping up with Castiel, and a few times he’s worried the pie might fall.

    “Just my dressing room. I’ve got some fancy alcohol, if you’re into that kind of thing. But, if you’re tastes are tamer, there’s soda in one of the vending machines nearby.”

    Castiel looks back at Dean over his shoulder and winks.

    _“If you’re into that kind of thing.”_

    Yeah, Castiel is definitely flirting with him.

    This dressing room is much larger than Dean’s. There’s a full sofa against one wall, three vanities against another, and racks of random clothes.

    “Not all of this is mine. The other talk show hosts use this room, too.” Castiel explains as he heads for the vanity closest to the couch.

    Dean watches as Castiel places his suit jacket on the back of the chair and undoes his tie. He catches Dean looking in the mirror, and turns to grin at him.

    “So, alcohol or soda?” Castiel asks, and Dean can practically hear the innuendo.

    “Um, alcohol?” Dean asks, voice as uncertain as he felt.

    Castiel laughs and shuffles his chair around so he can open the cabinet doors of the vanity. There, as promised, is a small variety of liquor. Castiel grabs one, then stands aside and indicates for Dean to do the same. Dean peers at the collection for a moment before going with the Jack Daniels. He won’t drink much, but a little buzz would be fine. He still has to get home, after all.

    Then, Castiel whips out some glasses and cans of seven up and Dean has to laugh.

    “A little bit of both, huh?” Dean teases as Castiel mixes his drink.

    “Straight isn’t quite my style.” Castiel agrees, and _wow_ Dean’s not even sure the last time someone made a queer joke around him.

    “For me it depends on the night.” Is the best reply Dean can come up with, but it goes over well.

    Castiel laughs, takes the whiskey from Dean and mixes it with the soda. He hands the glass to Dean, then takes a seat on the couch. He pats the spot next to him and Dean takes it. Their thighs press together, but neither man adjusts.

    “So, outside of this, what’s your life like?” Dean asks, gesturing vaguely at the room around them.

    “Well, a few of my siblings and I live out in Livingston. I’ve got two cats, lots of books…I like to ride my bike around. Go hiking. Nothing too crazy.”

    “Sounds fun. How come you live with your siblings?”

    “Well, Anna’s into women, and our parents aren’t great, so they kicked her out at eighteen. She’s younger than me and Gabriel, and we were already living together so she came and stayed with us. And Gabe’s just weird. He owns a joke shop in the old town part of Livingston, so he doesn’t make a lot of money. But out of all of us he got the trust fund, so you know. He’s set.”

    Dean was flattered by Castiel’s unabashed honesty. For having just met, and for just flirting, switching to a heavy conversation had come so naturally between them. Like they were meant to share each other’s pain.

    If Dean was a believer in such things, he might have even said their meeting felt like fate.

    But he wasn’t.

    That didn’t stop him from sharing a little about his father, John, being homophobic as well, and how Dean had had to hide his identity all the way through college until he could escape Kansas for L.A.

    And if he and Castiel ended up making out for a few ~~hours~~ minutes before Dean had to catch a cab to his hotel?

    Well, his lack of belief certainly didn’t stop him from trading numbers with Castiel and asking the guy to call him whenever he was next in Vancouver.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've never written a priest!au before. I'm not religious so I don't know much about the Christian faith or how it works. Hopefully this goes over well? It was fun to write.

    Castiel was cleaning up the altar after a long Saturday of various services. There were the morning bible studies, followed by a potluck around one, and finally evening mass. It had been a long day for the preacher, and he was ready to go home and watch some television that had nothing to do with God or church.

    The janitor popped in while Castiel was setting up for tomorrow services. They chatted for a while before Castiel let the man get back to his work, and he his own. Castiel was almost finished when the janitor left, which meant he would be the one to turn off all of the lights.

    Unfortunately for Castiel, nothing scared him quite like an empty church at night. The place became something other than holy in his mind. As a kid he hadn’t been able to rationalize it, but as an adult he knew he was simply afraid of the dark.

    Castiel had just set the last candle in its stand when a door to the room creaked open and the lights flickered. He jumped and let out an auditory squeak, then he saw that a figure was standing in the doorway.

    “Sir! You startled me.” Castiel called to the man, chuckling to relax himself.

    This was probably just one of the churchgoers who needed a last minute confession and saw that the lights were still on inside. The man began to make his way through the room, looking around at the decorations as if he were admiring a museum.

    “How can I help you?” Castiel asked, setting down the candle on the altar and stepping off the stage.

    He didn’t move any farther, as the man was suddenly standing inches from him. The preacher wasn’t sure if he’d even see the guy _move_. The man loomed over him, shrouded in shadows from the dim lights. His eyes roamed over Castiel’s face and body. Castiel felt frozen.

    Then the man’s eyes met his once more, but instead of normal human eyes, they were solid black like twin abysses.

    “I want to confess something.” He said, voice low and sultry.

    Castiel just stared. The stranger didn’t like that. He gripped either side of Castiel’s face and brought their bodies closer together.

    “I said,” The stranger hissed nearly against Castiel’s lips, “I must confess.”

    “W-w-what are you?” Castiel asked, voice shaking.

    “A demon.” The creature grinned menacingly.

    Castiel reached up to shove the stranger away from him, but he was let go at the same moment. He stumbled back and fell against the steps to the stage. The self-proclaimed demon loomed over him, laughing.

    “Demons aren’t real!” Castiel yelled at the man as he scrambled to his feet and raced for the cross he’d set on the altar not ten minutes ago.

    But before he took two steps Castel found himself lifting from the ground. He floated in terror back to the demon, where he was deposited in a heap at the creature’s feet.

    “Does that convince you?” The thing asked, then he snapped his fingers and Castiel found himself tied to a chair in the church’s basement.

    “What about this?”

    “Yes, yes, alright.” Castiel rushed out, trying to breathe.

    He could feel a panic attack coming, and right now wasn’t the time for that. He’d need to get home safely before, and even then home might not be safe anymore because certainly if this demon could get into a church he could get into a house…

    Castiel realized the demon was talking.

    “Castiel Novak, huh? I never expected you to be like _this_. I expected a street rat, or a metal head, or Hell, even a conservative douchebag. But a preacher, dedicated to God and holiness? It’s almost poetic. If you were an angel, it’d be perfect.”

    “What do you mean?” Castiel asked, looking up at the demon in horror.

    He had guessed where this conversation was going, and wanted it to go anywhere but there.

    “My confession, which you still haven’t asked for.”

    Castiel gulped audibly.

    “What is your confession?”

    The demon grinned.

    “My name is Dean Winchester.”

    Castiel screamed.

    That name had been etched into the skin above his naval since birth. That name belonged to his soulmate. That name…belonged to the spawn of Satan.

    Castiel would rather be dead.

    The demon’s laugher echoed against the concrete walls, and Castiel began to scream louder as the thing approached him with a knife that had appeared out of thin air.

    Perhaps he was going to die.


	5. Chapter 5

    Castiel can’t deal with this anymore. It’s been an entire week and he is _miserable_. He moped around the apartment, drew way too many failed sketches, and even pissed off his cat by snuggling him too much.

    It’s time for him to get Dean back.

    Or at least try.

    He rolls out of his blanket-burrito, causing his cat to fall on the floor with yet another meow of protest. He digs through his closet for clothes that would make him look presentable, hops in the shower, and plans his day. It’s already ten, so by the time he hits the street it will be nearly eleven. Too early for Dean’s lunch break, but Cas doesn’t have to bring him food. Flowers will work just fine.

    Just past eleven thirty Cas finds himself at the doors of the office building Dean works in, flowers in hand. He even got a small box of caramel chocolates—Dean’s favourite—from the sweet shop next to the florist.

    Cas takes a deep breath and walks in. Dean’s not expecting him, so this will be…more dramatic measures than he’s gone to before. Hopefully Dean doesn’t get mad at him.

    The elevator ride is slow, but then it spits Cas out on Dean’s floor and he can’t turn back. He walks passed the receptionist—Charlie, one of his and Dean’s mutual friends—with a wave, then rounds the corner. Dean’s coming around the row of cubicles closest to him, chatting fervently into a Bluetooth earpiece.

    They spot each other at the same time. Dean stops midsentence, surprised. Cas steps forward, flowers and chocolates held out like an olive branch.

    “Can I call you back, Mom?” Dean asks, and after a moment Dean clicks a button on the earpiece and takes the gifts from Cas.

    “Babe, what’s up?” Dean glances between the flowers and Cas.

    Cas slides in around the stuff the best he can to plant a kiss on Dean’s cheek.

    “I’m bored. Want you to quit your job and come home. The usual.” Cas grumbles bashfully, realizing now that he hadn’t bothered to plan what he was going to say.

    Of course, Dean knew Cas didn’t like his new schedule and he hadn’t come here just to bitch about it the way he did at home. At the bottom of it all, Cas just didn’t want Dean to be away for too long. It made him antsy.

    Unlike at home, Dean agrees with him rather than argues with him.

    “I know, babe. Trust me. I’m feeling it too, especially today. But it’s just been a week. We’ll get used to it.”

    Cas nods, then starts as he notices Dean’s boss, Naomi, watching them from her office not too far away. Cas is about to say something, but she comes over and clears her throat.

    “Dean, who’s this?” She asks, eyeing Cas somewhat suspiciously.

    It’s almost comical the way Dean spins around to stare at his boss, flowers and chocolates dangerously unbalanced as he moves.

    Aside from Charlie, who got him the job in the first place, Dean’s not out really to his coworkers. Naomi knows his married for income and taxing purposes but…Cas kinda forgot.

    Damn heteronormativity.

    “Oh, this is Castiel. My husband.” Dean says without a thought, then lifts the gifts and adds with a slightly tense smile, “I’d do a better introduction, but my hands are tied.”

    Naomi holds her hand out to Cas, who shakes it.

    “Hello.” Cas greets her.

    “Nice to meet you, Castiel. Dean’s been a great help so far.” Naomi gives him a genuine smile then returns to her office.

    As she goes, she calls back to Dean, “Don’t forget, lunch is an hour. No more, no less.”

    Dean turns back to Cas with a devilish grin.

    “Lunch is at twelve thirty. How does a quick lunch date sound, since you’re already downtown?”

    “Perfect.” Cas says, then gives Dean a quick kiss before going back to the reception area to bug Charlie for the next forty minutes.


	6. Chapter 6

** Chapter Six **

    Castiel was staring. He knew Dean didn’t like it, but he couldn’t help himself. Not tonight. There was a certain factor to being resurrected that made Castiel ridiculously sentimental.

    Across the room, Dean, Sam, and Jack were seated on the couch watching TV. There was a western on the screen, of course. Dean had argued adamantly that it would be unseemly to watch anything else in Dodge City. _Hell or High Water_ was an interesting movie, but Castiel couldn’t bring himself to watch it. Dean was far more interesting.

    The man’s lips twitched in the low light as he smiled at a moment in the movie, and Castiel felt himself smile as well. Dean’s eyes crinkled along with the smile, and Castiel counted each laughter line. Then he proceeded to count every freckle he could find.

    Eventually, Dean realized he was being stared at, and caught Castiel’s eye. He smiled and winked before looking back at the screen, still invested in the movie. Castiel, of course, couldn’t look away. His heart ached for Dean to do more than acknowledge him. To say more than _thanks for not being dead, again_. To say that he wanted something more, too.

    When the movie was over, Sam immediately went to the sectioned-off bedroom of the suite to sleep. He gave Castiel a quick hug, first, which the angel reciprocated easily. He appreciated his friend’s affection more than Sam knew.

    Jack wanted to watch more movies, so Dean helped him find one before step-sliding across the hardwood floor, in his socks, to the table where Castiel was sitting. He rested a hand on the angel’s shoulder and looked down at Castiel with a somber expression. Castiel looked up at him and gave him a reassuring smile.

    “Wanna go on an adventure?” Dean asked.

    Castiel nodded. Whatever Dean needed him for, Castiel would go with him.

    With a clap on his shoulder, Dean told him to follow. They gathered their coats and shoes, then headed out the door with a last word to Jack to stay put. The kid seemed content to do so, so Castiel was fine to leave him there.

    They clambered into the Impala and Dean drove silently onto the road. The hotel was on the outskirts of the city so it would take a few minutes to get there. Castiel had begun to assume that Dean was headed for the bar they had passed during the day, which meant they had…twenty-two minutes. Give or take.

    As far as Castiel was concerned, that just meant twenty-two more minutes he could stare at Dean, guilt-free. He took in the way Dean’s face was lit by passing street lights, or headlights, or even the glowing dashboard of the Impala. He memorized each feature of the man’s profile, then re-memorized him every time the light changed.

    Suddenly, a hand waved in front of his eyes and Castiel blinked, hard.

    “You okay?” Dean asked, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at Castiel with concern.

    “Yes.” Castiel nodded, though he felt anything but.

    He was here in this car, with Dean, acting as though nothing were different, that nothing had changed. That he hadn’t just _died_. Castiel wanted everything to change, but he couldn’t ask for it.

    “Then why are you starin’?”

    “I missed you.”

    His honest words were met with silence, so Castiel decided to train his eyes on the gearshift instead. He wanted Dean to react, but the chances of that were low, and Castiel hoped that giving Dean some kind of privacy might help him gain confidence. He had to resist looking up more than twice, but for a few minutes, he was able to give Dean relief.

    “Come ‘ere.” Dean said suddenly, throwing his arm over the back of the bench seat and tilting his head in invitation.

    Castiel willingly slid across the seat, letting his legs stay on his side of the center console. In a daring move he pressed his side against Dean, who tucked his arm around the angel’s shoulders and squeezed. He adjusted to driving with one hand for a few moments, while Castiel watched him again. Now that Dean was close, Castiel could count every single freckle, every single blemish, every single wrinkle of skin. Dean was beautiful.

    Dean looked back at him and cracked a smile. Castiel looked up from his lips, admiring the glow of those soulful green eyes. He felt delirious. He was, in this moment, so obsessed with Dean and the love they shared that he couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than soak in it. The rapid pulse of his heart was merely supporting evidence.

    “You know, I should’ve said it back the first time.” Dean said, turning back to the road.

    “What do you mean?”

    Dean took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, before glancing at Castiel again. Castiel gave him a reassuring smile, which Dean reciprocated.

    “I love you, Cas. And I should’ve told you the first time you died, back when you were human. Don’t know why I didn’t.” Dean rushed out, keeping his eyes focused ahead.

    Castiel felt like his heart was going to explode, he felt so elated. Dean had finally said it. Had finally owned up to the feelings Castiel had been receiving for nearly a decade.

    “Thank you.” Castiel said reverently.

    “Thank you?” Dean repeated, giving Castiel an incredulous look.

    “Yes, thank you. I know what it means for you to say that.”

    Dean’s face fell, and the man dipped his head as he swallowed around a painful thought. He just pulled Castiel a little closer, and they continued their drive in companionable silence. Castiel rested his head against Dean’s shoulder, and after a moment, Dean relaxed into the touch.

    Perhaps things were changing.

    As predicted, Dean guided the Impala into a one of the few parking spaces left outside of the bar in town. It was a Friday night, and judging from the state of the lot, the bar was going to be a bit too crowded for Castiel’s taste. But he followed Dean inside, where they were able to get seats at the counter. They sat on the stools with their sides pressed against one another. Castiel didn’t pay attention to what Dean ordered for him, and with so much life to look at the angel was finally able to admire something other than the hunter.

    The bar wasn’t as crowded as the cars outside had indicated. Though a three-thirds of the seats were occupied, there was enough space to breathe. For a while, Castiel mindlessly watched a group of young men playing a miniature version of beer pong. He enjoyed the sound of laughter as the small plastic ball fell onto the floor, and a mad scramble ensued. Humans were so easily entertained.

    A hand on his thigh brought Castiel’s attention to the woman sitting on his right, a stranger. The woman smiled at him, dark eyes roaming his face with a sultry look that Castiel recognized.

    “Haven’t seen you around here. Got a name?” She asked, turning her body fully to Castiel and leaning into his personal space.

    Castiel froze, unsure of what to do. Dean made his mind up for him, though, and he leaned over Castiel’s personal space and said to the woman,

    “No, he doesn’t.”

    She huffed in annoyance, but left after fumbling with her wallet and leaving a pile of ones on the counter. The bartender brought their drinks, then, giving the back of the woman’s head a confused glance as she sorted through the cash. Castiel assumed the woman had left enough money, because the bartender shrugged and took it to the cash register.

    He and Dean sipped on their drinks for a while before Dean switched his beer to his left hand, setting his right on Castiel’s knee. Castiel glanced down, then up at Dean, frowning. He knew what the gesture meant: possession. That was part of why the woman had startled him.

    Was Dean…? _Of course he was_ , Castiel reasoned. The angel had no reason to assume otherwise.

    Castiel set his own hand on top of Dean’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. The feeling of Dean’s skin against his own, hot and thrumming with life, reminded Castiel that just days ago he’d been dead. Asleep for eternity, without the opportunity to see Dean, much less feel him.

    The angel was so lucky to be alive.

    “Cas, I gotta ask you something.” Dean mumbled against the glass held to his lips.

    “Ask away.” Castiel asked, using a phrase he found to be unassuming and welcoming.

    This night seemed to be the one where the walls Dean had held up for so long were going to crumble down. Castiel wasn’t about to stop them.

    “Do you think we’re soulmates?” Dean asked, his eyes trained on Castiel’s face, waiting for a reaction.

    The question caught Castiel off-guard. The answer was of course, yes. They were. The angel had watched himself through various, sometimes vicarious means, fall in love with Dean in and endless number of universes. Interdimensional vision was an advantage of being an angel. Similar to Prophets in this universe, who could see through time.

    To Castiel, the constant pattern of falling in love with Dean could only mean that they were somehow fated. Soulmates was one word to describe that kind of relationship.

    “Of course we are.” Castiel made sure that every ounce of conviction he felt about the statement came through in his tone.

    Dean’s smile was bright enough to put the Sun to shame.

    “Good. I’d hate to think that there’s some sorry version of me who doesn’t have you.”

    Dean released his grip on Castiel’s knee to flag down the bartender once more. Castiel continued to stare at him in wonder and awe, feeling the weight of Dean’s words with every molecule of his grace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy so I managed to tie it all together. Somewhat? I hope this was enjoyable. I struggled with the last chapter and rewrote it like 5 times because I didn't want to start at the beginning of season 4.   
> As always, thanks for reading, and if there's any grammatical weirdness or other mistakes let me know.


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